time collision
by Res Nullius
Summary: It's the summer of Harry's soon to be 6th year. Everything seems normal, until an accident happens and a visitor from the past connects with Harry in the present. This can only mean trouble...
1. Dwelling on the past

IMPORTANT A/N: I have this story set during the summer of Harry's soon-to-be sixth year, so he's not quite 16 yet. I did that because when the characters are at a younger age, you can evoke more emotion out of them and I think some things would sound too mushy if it were said when they were older and I wanted the characters to still be at an age when they're still a bit immature. So, I know almost everyone is writing present stories (ones preceding after Harry's 6th year), but this is my reason for setting it back a year and a half. Enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or related items. They all belong to J.K Rowling, Warner Bros., and Scholastic books.

Chapter One: Dwelling on the past-

Harry Potter had been sitting in that damp, musty room residing within Number 12 Grimmauld Place for quite awhile. Harry had been staying at the burrow, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had to attend the meetings here for the Order. Mrs. Weasley insisted that the family come when there was a meeting, but Harry believed that it was really Headmaster Dumbledore who had insisted that they all come, mainly for Harry's safety. He wasn't sure why, but something about that thought made him feel irritated. It bothered him when he couldn't go anywhere without being watched. It made him feel like a child. And he was not a child. Not anymore. So for the time being he had retreated up to one of the bedrooms to be alone if only for a while. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione, but he had brought his photo album with him in his coat. He just had that longing feeling to take it with him. He had been up in that bedroom for almost half an hour now, just flipping through it over and over again. Part of him wanted to get up and leave, but the other part of him begged him to stay for just a while longer and linger on those forgotten photos he had purposely neglected for quite some time. True, sometimes he did enjoy looking at those old photographs of his parents, but more often than not he felt haunted by them… by those smiling faces so unaware about what was to come. The feeling often made his stomach churn. And every time he looked into they're eyes and knot formed in his throat, and he would get that horrible feeling… the feeling that no matter how long he stared and silently pleaded, he would never see them… never get to meet them. That's why he would wait so long before looking at those photos again. But there were times when he missed them so much he had to look at those photos, or he knew he'd feel guilty for ignoring them. Today was one of those days.

Ron Weasley sat facing an intense game of Wizard's Chess against… himself. Okay, so actually, he was finding it to be quite boring, but no one else wanted to battle him. He had really wanted to play against his best friend, Harry (since he was the only person Ron could ever beat). But Harry had been upstairs for quite sometime, and Ron knew better than to bother him when he could tell Harry wanted to be left alone. Harry was one of those people that sometimes needed space to think about things. Hermione was like that too. Ron couldn't understand it, he sighed to himself, didn't they ever get lonely? Coming to the conclusion that there was nothing else to do, he decided to beat himself (for the fourth time in a row) at a game of wizard's Chess. Now that he thought about it he did need Pig to send a letter off for him… where was that stupid owl anyways?

Hermione Granger sat in an armchair next to the cold, damp fireplace, looking pensive for a moment. Suddenly hitting inspiration, she bit her bottom lip, dipped her quill in ink, and began writing on her piece of parchment. When she had finished her last sentence she held her completed essay out in front of her and beamed. It was perfect. Now, she thought to herself, all she had to do was revise it a few times, make sure all of her grammar was correct, edit it, re-write it again, and then it would be satisfactory and ready to turn in. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for doing such a smashing job. Not even Snape would have an excuse to give this essay a low mark. Smiling she looked over at Ron who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, determined to outwit himself at Wizard's Chess. She still had no idea what the point of it was. I mean, he was playing both sides, so no matter what he would win. It just went to show how easily Ron could be entertained. Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew Ron was going to procrastinate until the day before school started up to finish his essay and then beg for her to help him. She was sure that Harry on the other hand, had at least started his. Hermione looked around. Where was her best friend anyway? She gently blew on her ink to help it dry before carefully rolling up her essay and setting it on the small table that stood next to her chair. She stretched her back and went off to search for Harry, as she left, she heard Ron give a loud 'whoop!' of triumph at winning against himself again.

As soon as Hermione headed for the stairs, Ron ran up behind her. "Where are you off too?" he asked, desperate to hang out with someone other than himself.

Hermione began climbing the stairs, "to look for Harry. I wanted to see how much of his essay he completed."

"Gee, that sounds… fun." Ron muttered sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not forcing you to come." Said Hermione.

Ron just shrugged. When they reached the bedroom door, Hermione reached for the handle.

"Wait!" whispered Ron. "We'll use the element of surprise."

"The element of surprise?" Hermione repeated raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yea," replied Ron, "You have to be quiet. Then I'll open the door really quick and you yell."

Hermione stared at him. "That's it? Open the door and yell?" She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yea, that will give him a fright."

But Ron didn't seem to have heard last sarcastic remark. "Alright." He whispered, "On my count… one… two… thr-"

But before Ron could open it the bedroom door swung open on it's own catching Ron by surprise. He fell back and gave a small yelp. Harry stood in the doorway looking down at Ron with a confused expression.

Hermione looked at Harry, eyebrows raised. "Wow, you're good."

Harry didn't know what she was talking about and he didn't ask, he just walked past them.

"Where are you headed?" Asked Hermione curiously.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk." He muttered, wanting to clear his head.

"But, your not allowed." She burst out in her bossy tone. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and looked down at the floor. She knew better than anyone that Harry hated being told what he could and couldn't do. He hated it here, in the old, musty house being cooped up all day while the Order was having secret meetings that he wasn't invited to. "Sorry." Hermione sheepishly murmured, "I-I didn't mean for it to come out like that." She looked up at him. "I'm just concerned for your safety, The Order only wants what's best for you."

"Yea, I can tell." Harry muttered, casting a distasteful look at the dingy house. He continued walking towards the door.

Hermione jumped in front of him. "Harry…" she said with a sympathetic look.

"What," he said with a small smile; "You're going to rat me out to the Order, are you?"

Hermione looked at him in the eyes and bit her lip. It was a moment before she answered, "Just-just be back within the hour, or the adults are bound to notice."

Harry smiled thankfully at her and Hermione gave a reluctant smile back.

"We'll cover your back." Said Ron as Harry quietly went out the door.

Hermione stood there, staring at the closed door with a worry written all over her face.

"Don't worry about him." Said Ron walking over to her, "He'll be fine."

"Well, he has the advance guard for a reason, Ron." She said defensively.

"Well, he's Harry. There's no stopping him."

Hermione slowly nodded. Seconds later to their right, most of the Order of the Phoenix began filtering out of the kitchen where they had just finished their weekly meeting. Snape swept out the front door without so much as a glance or a word, others slowly made their way out as well, until the only people remaining downstairs were Remus Lupin, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley; their sons Fred and George and Albus Dumbledore.

"Well," said Ron as he gestured towards the kitchen, "shall we have lunch?"

Hermione nodded again and they both entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was setting a plate of sandwiches on the dusty table and then began scrounging in the kitchen drawer for napkins. When the two of them entered, Mrs. Weasley beamed at them. "Oh, just in time, you two. I've made lunch." She pulled out some yellowed napkins, took one look at their unnatural color and then chucked them in the rubbish bin with her nose still crinkled in disgust. She looked back up at Ron and Hermione. "Where's Harry?" she said with concern.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. "Well, er…" began Hermione. Sensing her hesitance about being dishonest, Ron stepped in, "he's asleep… upstairs. He said he wasn't hungry, so, yeah." Ron looked at his mother with the most convincing face he could.

"Oh, the poor dear." She whispered. "Well, I'll save him a sandwich for later."

"Good idea." Said Ron quickly as he and Hermione took a seat at the table. Professor Lupin and Dumbledore seemed to be in deep conversation about something. Ron looked at Hermione, "Aren't you going to eat something?"

Hermione just stared down at the faded mahogany table and muttered, "not hungry." She was apparently still worried about Harry.

Ron shrugged and leaned over the table to grab a sandwich, but before he could clasp his fingers around his food, a loud, earsplitting crack resounded throughout the kitchen and the table, cabinets, everything shook for a moment before the loud cracking noise was replaced by a blinding flash of white light. They all covered their eyes, jaw-dropped and confused. Mr. Weasley murmured, "what in Merlin's name…" as the light began to dim. Lupin was on his feet, his wand raised. Dumbledore was on his feet to, but he seemed calmer about whatever this strange disturbance was. They all stared at the middle of the kitchen where the last sign of the odd light had diminished. Everything looked fine and intact as though nothing had happened. How strange…

Until out of nowhere a small, "owww…" was issued behind them. They all jumped and looked around.

"Harry?" said Mrs. Weasley in confusion, staring down at the figure that had made the noise. He was sitting on the floor with a pained expression on his face. He slowly began to rise to his feet, rubbing his back as though he had just landed on it. He had scraggly black hair and round glasses, so there was no mistaking that it was Harry. But, what in Merlin's name was he doing in his school uniform?

Harry didn't seem to have heard Mrs. Weasley say his name. Mr. Weasely gawked at him. "Was… was all this ruckus you? Did you just apparate?" That would have explained the loud crack, thought Mr. Weasley, but… that strange light?

"Uh, yea… something like that. Only, I have no idea how I ended up here…" Harry muttered, rubbing his chin in befuddlement. He looked around. "Hey…" he muttered, realization dawning on him, "this is Sirius's house! I am in the right place. I almost didn't recognize it. It… looks different for some reason."

Everyone exchanged confused glances, except for Dumbledore who remained oddly still and silent.

"What are you talking about?" asked Mr. Weasley. Harry's eyes landed on him. "Who are you? What are you doing in Sirius' house? Your not another one of his bizarre 'kill the muggle-borns' relatives, are you?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Mrs. Weasley gasped and covered her mouth, appalled at his behavior.

"His family is so creepy." Harry said as he walked over to the table, eyeing the sandwiches. "Are these fresh?" He said, picking one up.

"Harry, what is going on?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Harry didn't answer, but kept eyeing his sandwich questioningly.

"Harry…. Harry!"

Harry spun around, "Oh, are you talking to me?"

"Harry, "said Ron, "what are you playing at?"

"Why do you all keep calling me that? It's getting really annoying. Hey, is that pumpkin juice?" Harry said suddenly. He shoved his sandwich in his mouth and bolted over behind Mrs. Weasley where the drinks sat.

Ron looked dumbstruck, Hermione looked fearful and everyone else just looked confused… except for Dumbledore, who suddenly took a step forward. "Harry?" the headmaster whispered quietly. The boy with his back turned to them, pouring his juice, didn't answer, as though he didn't recognize the name. Suddenly, an odd, farfetched thought came to the headmaster and after a moment of hesitancy, he softly whispered, "James…?"

The boy spun around, cup in hand and replied, "Yea?"


	2. The Bond of Blood

Chapter 2: The bond of blood-

Everyone gaped. The boy that resembled Harry so much, turned and looked at Dumbledore and then a double take. "Professor! What are you doing here?" He suddenly seemed very panicked. "I-I can explain." He began talking very fast, "You see, Sirius dragged Peter and I with him to easedrop on the sixth years' lesson- and then Evan's came along- man, she is so pushy sometimes! I mean, not that that doesn't mean she's beautiful, she is! But pushy, like this one time-" Dumbledore quickly raised his hand for silence and the boy immediately obeyed. Dumbledore slowly walked over to him and put his hands on his shoulders, peering down into his eyes… his not green, but hazel eyes. That's when he knew. "It is you." The headmaster whispered very quietly with a look on his face that was quite unreadable.

The boy named James cocked his head, "of course it's me. I just spoke to you a little while ago, don't you remember? Professor McGonagall just sent me to see you, about the detention, remember?" James pulled a crinkled note out of his robe pocket and handed it to the old professor. Everyone was watching intently, uncertain of what was going on. The headmaster slowly took the note, and almost found it a shock to be staring down at his own writing. It was a note addressed to Professor Slughorn, the potions teacher in James's 5th year. Dumbledore looked back up at James as an old memory tugged at his mind, longing to be remembered. Suddenly, it was as though a door in his head had opened and everything came flooding out. He remembered writing this note. "I wrote this to your potions teacher… to reschedule your detention so you could attend your Quidditch practice…"

"Yea. Because my captain is threatening to throw me off the team if I miss anymore practices." Said James, " and Old Slughorn wouldn't listen to McGonagall. He's a nutty, old bat, he is…"

Dumbledore stared at James. It was all coming back to him, from all those years ago. "You got the detention for bothering Miss Evan's during his class."

"Yea." James looked down bitterly. "He always favors her." He suddenly looked back up, his eyes twinkling brightly and gave a thoughtful sigh, "but, who wouldn't favor her. She's perfect." His expression became dreamy, "what I wouldn't do for Lily Evans…"

Dumbledore remained silent, studying him intently. James looked around uncomfortably at all the staring eyes. "well," he finally said, coming out of his reverie, "you never answered my question, what are you all doing at Sirius's house?"

"I will answer your question, but first, I think it would be best if you answered some of mine." Dumbledore kindly gestured with his hand towards a chair at the table. James got the hint and took a seat. Slowly, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George sat down as well, still staring avidly. Ron and Hermione sat down reluctantly at the other side of the table as though fearful that James would attack. Remus Lupin on the other hand remained standing in the corner, not speaking, just watching. All the eyes upon him made James very uncomfortable. He smiled broadly, "well, this is cozy." Dumbledore sat down beside James. "James," the headmaster began very seriously, "how did you get to Sirius's house."

James's expression changed instantly. His smile turned from happy, to a nervous grin. "yea… about that." He began pulling at a loose thread on his robe and wouldn't meet the headmaster's eyes. It was hard admitting you had done something wrong to Dumbledore when he stared at you with those deep, twinkling eyes. Why did they have to talk about this in front of all these strangers sitting at the table? Why wouldn't Dumbledore just take him back to Hogwarts and sit him down in his office? "Well… Sirius kind of had this idea… okay, well, Sirius and _I_ kind of had this idea…" the longer the headmaster stared at him, the more he felt like he needed to be honest. "We thought it would be fun to easedrop on the sixth year's apparating class, you know, to get a head start on it and to… maybe test it out a little bit. Have a little fun with it."

"You wore the invisibility cloak, I presume?" said Dumbledore casually.

"Yes- hey, how do you know about that?" Asked James, surprised.

"I have my ways. We can discuss that later, go on." Ushered Dumbledore.

James eyes Dumbledore questioningly before he continued, "Well, after we got back to the dormitories, we decided to test it out while everyone else was at lunch." He said a bit shamefully. James dared sneak a small glance at the headmaster, who, to his astonishment, didn't look angry, but also looked as though he was not in the least bit surprised. "Go on." He ushered again.

"So, I volunteered to go first. We just randomly picked something to concentrate on. Which ended up being Sirius's house. Not that any of us would ever want to come here. His family's nuts. But we picked it anyway, getting a good laugh because, well, we didn't actually think it would work." James looked up at Dumbledore with a hesitant smile. Fred and George smiled broadly and looked at James in astonishment, "wicked."

Dumbledore however seemed to be in deep thought. Suddenly he muttered, "You went missing."

"Er, what?" James asked, confused.

"I remember Minerva telling me later in the staff room that you didn't show up for her class and no one else had seen you." James could almost hear the cogs in the headmaster's head turning. "We assumed you may have been ill." He looked back at James. "But, you were here… the whole time."

James looked at him, lost.

Finally, Arthur Weasley, who had been silent for quite some time, spoke, "Dumbledore, what's going on?"

Dumbledore pulled his gaze away from James and addressed Arthur. "I believe, Arthur, we have a visitor from the past."

All was silent for a moment, before Dumbledore returned his gaze back to James although he was still talking to Mr. Weasley, "He splinched."

"you mean he left part of himself behind?" Hermione said in horror. Ron and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley's all gasped, Fred and George's reaction on the other hand was "cool!" James turned pale. His mind raced frantically as he tried to think about what parts of himself he may have not realized he was missing. But he wasn't in any pain. It didn't feel like he was missing any limbs or an ear, eye or nose. Or maybe he was still numb from his strange apparation that had gone all wrong. He began to panic and looked at Dumbledore frantically. He was surprised to see amusement in the professor's eyes.

"No, I assure you, he has all of his limbs. There is a rare form of splinching, which, I'm sure, Arthur, you may have heard about working in your department within the ministry." Dumbledore now addressed James once more. "You splinched, but not physically. Through time."

Mr. Weasley spoke up immediately, "Dumbledore, that can't be possible. Concentrating on the Black house wouldn't have been enough to jump him ahead this far. He would have needed some kind of-"

"-connection." Finished Dumbledore.

"Well, yes." Stammered Mr. Weasely. "Some-some of connection residing on the place he was focusing on-"

"He does have a connection." Intervined Dumbledore very calmly as though this sort of bizarre thing happened everyday. "A blood connection." Said the headmaster, "Harry."

James looked around at everyone, "Who?"


	3. Memories for Moony

Chapter 3- Memories for Moony

Harry quietly opened the front door leading into Number 12. The floorboards squeaked in irritation as he walked inside, worrying him that he might wake the horrible portrait of Mrs. Black. Harry looked around, afraid that he might run into someone from the Order catching his return, but all was empty, no one was around. Harry found that a bit odd, but didn't linger too much on it. His head felt a lot clearer after getting some fresh air, but now his legs were tired and wanted to rest. He headed up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms and collapsed down on one of the moth-eaten mattresses, dust flew up everywhere as he body made impact on it. But he was so exhausted he didn't care.

"Who is this Harry person that you all keep mentioning? And if this is the future, where's my future-self? How old am I? Oh, did I become a professional Quidditch player? Did I ever-" James would have kept going if the Headmaster hadn't raised his hand for silence once again. The resemblance sure was uncanny, but Harry and James's personalities were far from the same. Harry was much more mellow compared to his father. James talked an awful lot, and asked far too many questions. Dumbledore rubbed his temples as though he wasn't quite sure where to begin. Then he looked up at everyone sitting at the table. "You've never run into a boy by the name of Arthur Weasley at Hogwarts, have you?"

James rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "I never actually spoke to him, but I had seen him around. Of course, that was years ago. He was a seventh year when I was in my first year and then he graduated. Same with his Girlfriend, Molly Prewett. I knew her in my first year though. She was able to get me out of some nasty trouble once, you know, since she was head-girl and all. The teachers listened to her. I would have been in one looooong detention of it hadn't been for her."

Molly Weasley was red in the face and smiling softly to herself.

Dumbledore smiled, "Well, James, then I believe there's no need for me to introduce the two of you." He held is hand out toward Molly at the other side of the table. She smiled at James lovingly.

James looked at Dumbledore, then at Molly and then back at the headmaster. "Whoa, wait. You're telling me that's Molly Prewett?"

"It's Molly Weasely now." Said Mrs.Weasley with a broad smile.

James shot a look at the tall red-haired man standing beside her. "So, it that-"

"Yes." Said Mr. Weasley.

He looked back at Mrs. Weasley, "You two got married?"

She nodded. He ran his hand through his hair and gazed around at everyone else "so, let me guess." He pointed to Fred, "You're a Weasley?"

"I dunno, am I?" he gazed at his mother suspiciously. She gave him a look of warning.

"Weasley?" James pointed at George who gave him the thumbs up.

"Weasley." He pointed at Ron, who smiled hesitantly. "And, Weasley-" he pointed at Hermione who stifled a small laugh with her palm. Dumbledore smiled, "No, James, This is Hermione. She's not a Weasley."

"Your not?" Said James. "Alright, let me guess. You're a… McCook…" she shook her head. "An… Anderson? You know, you kind of look like this one girl in my Potions class…"

"Dumbledore smiled, "Actually, she's a Granger."

James looked puzzled. "Funny, I've never heard of a Granger at Hogwarts."

"You wouldn't know any of her relatives. You see, Miss Granger is a Muggle-born."

There was a moment of silence. James stared at Hermione who looked uncomfortable.

"Oh." Said James shortly. "I'm a pureblood, you know." He said, pointing at himself and sticking out his chest proudly.

Hermione's expression changed instantly, she frowned, "You think just because you're a Pureblood, it makes you better?"

"Hey, I was just saying." He said airily.

"What's wrong with me being a Muggle-born?" she folded her arms, staring hard at James.

"Whoa, don't freak out." James said, "There's nothing wrong with Muggle-borns. My girlfriend is a muggle-born." He said proudly.

"What girlfriend?" asked a voice from the corner.

James looked behind him, "Lily Evans, of course."

Remus Lupin stepped out from the dark corner. "Really? Age may have mottled my memory, but I don't recall Lily dating you in your fifth year. In fact, that was the year she hated you the most… I believe it was because you proposed to her in the Great Hall during Breakfast. And I believe Lily called you quite a few cruel names before dumping her porridge bowl on her head and stalking off in embarrassment." 

James stared at the man, his mouth slack. "How do you-"

The old professor continued, "And I recall her exact words being somewhere along the lines of: if you ever do that again I'll hex you into oblivion, you rat." Something like amusement flashed behind Lupin's eyes.

"She only meant out of love!" said James defensively. "How would you know what she said, anyways?" muttered James. He said it as though he didn't really care, but in truth James really was curious how that man knew about that situation when it had only happened last week.

"Because, I was there."

James burst out in laughter, staring at the man in amusement, "You were there? Ha ha ha! I think someone's had a little too much flaming fire whiskey!"

"Believe what you will, Prongs."

James's laughter stopped instantly. The smile slid right off his face as he looked up at the man's worn features. "What did you call me?"

Lupin didn't answer.

"How do know that name?" asked James, "No one is supposed to know that name except Remus, Peter and Sirius-"

" You mean Moony, Wormtail and Padfoot." Said Lupin.

James's jaw dropped. "How do you…" but he seemed lost for words.

"It's me, James. Remus." Said Lupin, a far kind of sadness seemed to reflect in his eyes. He slowly slunk down in the chair next to James, never taking his eyes off him.

James let a small laugh that sounded a bit nervous. "I know Remus, he's one of my best friends! And you're not him!" He said convinced as he folded his arms smugly and looked away.

"I helped you pick that name." Said Lupin slowly. "Prongs." He found the memory in full detail hard to remember since it had occurred so long ago and only hours before the full moon. But edges of it scraped at his brain, longing to be remembered as well. "We finally agreed on it, that night in the shrieking shack."

James slowly looked up at the weary man next to him, the look on the boy's face softened. Something about those old blue eyes seemed familiar.

"You had bruise on your shoulder, that night during our third year. Sirius dared you to try and get down to the shack without pushing the knot in the Whomping Willow." The man gave a small chuckle. "Stupid thing to do, really."

James studied that aged face; the many creases from years of either smiling or anguish that lined his tired eyes and mouth. The various scratch marks and faint scars. Even underneath that graying brown hair, the look of his good friend shone through as soon as he had let out that smile. The look of dawning realization struck James's face. He looked at little closer and then hesitantly reached out a hand and touched that tired face.

"Moony?" James whispered. He would never know how wonderful it made Lupin feel just to hear that name again. "It is you." He pulled his hand away and studied him, part of him in near shock. Then he whispered, "You're all grown up."

Remus smiled broadly. James had grown very serious, "what happened to you? Your… your old."

Remus gave a small chuckle, "that's what age does to you."

James gave a small smile, but there was something like pity behind it.

"So… if you're here, then I must be here as an adult too."

No one said anything. Mrs. Weasley looked down at the ground and the moment of brief happiness suddenly faded from Lupin's eyes. Everyone seemed to be avoiding the boy's gaze. No one wanted to tell him the truth.

"Well?" he looked around at all of them. "Where am I?" he looked at Dumbledore.

Only the headmaster spoke, "your gone."

"Where?" asked James questioningly?

"Your away right now." Was all the headmaster said.

James's upbeat manner suddenly perked within him, "Where? Playing for Puddlemere United? Am I keeper still? Oh, or a secret mission? Am I an Auror? How many wizards have I caught? Hey…" he quickly looked back at Remus. "If you're here, then Sirius must be too! How old does he look now?" James didn't wait for any answers, he quickly ran through towards the door that exited the kitchen. "Sirius!" he called.

"James, wait! There's still someone you need to know about! Harry, he's-" that was all Dumbledore was able to say before James had rushed out the door, calling for his best friend. "Sirius! Where are you, git?" he said with a laugh. "Hiding from me?" he pulled open the door to the hallway closet. Everything dumped out of it onto the floor; James just stepped over it and kept looking. "Come out! I know you're here!"

"James, wait!" Mr. Weasley tried to say as everyone else followed him out to the hallway.

Mrs. Black's Portrait began yelling vile words. "She's still here?" James said more to himself than anybody. "Hey, shut it, you old hag!" he continued his search. "Sirius!"

Harry tiredly opened his eyes. He could hear a muffled yell echoing downstairs. Irritated and tired he got up.

"James, Sirius is… away too." Said Remus trying to talk over James's yells. But James didn't seem to have heard him. He ran upstairs. "SIRIUS!!!" He yelled really loud. He heard shuffling within one of the rooms.

Harry could hear someone outside the door. "If this is Ron trying to sneak up on me again…" he quietly made his way over to the door and grabbed the handle ready to give Ron a scare before he gave Harry one.

James listened. Yep, there was someone in there all right, it had to be Sirius. He grabbed the handle preparing to open it and surprise his friend.

"One…"James counted quietly.

"…Two…" whispered Harry

"…Three!" James thrust open the door, smiling gleefully.

As soon as Harry yelled "three" he felt the handle rip from his hand and swing open. Who he saw standing across from him definitely wasn't Ron.

And it certainly wasn't Sirius. James's smiled was replaced by a look of horror.

Dumbledore headed up the stairs after James, everyone else at his heels. But before any of them made it to the top landing, two, loud, horrified yells sounded in unison, echoing throughout the staircase, causing Mrs. Blacks portrait to wake up again and join in.


	4. Arguments and Answers

Many thanks to all my AMAZING reviewers! You guys are my motivation! You keep me writing this story! So this one's for you:)

ARGUMENTS AND ANSWERS-

Dumbledore and the others hurried up the stairs to the frantic yells, but before they even made it to the top of the flight, James came hurtling back down towards them looking petrified.

"It's a clone!" he said frantically, "Something went wrong when I 'spliced'!"

"You mean "splinched" said Mr. Weasley somewhere down along the long flight of stairs.

"Whatever I did, now there's TWO of me!"

Ron stifled a laugh.

"James, calm down-" Dumbledore began, but James was in a panic.

"I knew I felt funny after I got here! Now look at me! I've-I've been split in two!" A look of pure horror covered James's face; he paced back and forth frantically as he ran his hands through his hair.

"James" said the headmaster firmly. "Calm down. Nothing, besides the fact that you are here, went wrong when you splinched."

James looked up at him, still drowning in a pool of panic.

"You, and the boy you encountered upstairs, are not the same person. But you do share the same blood. Come with me." Dumbledore continued climbing the stairs.

"Are you crazy? I'm not going back up there!"

As Mr. Weasley followed at Dumbledore's heels he whispered quietly to the headmaster, "How are you going to explain this to them?"

Dumbledore didn't answer but just continued up the rickety stairway, James reluctantly following.

The headmaster knocked on the door at the right of the hallway. There was a shuffling noise from the inside, but no answer. Dumbledore cautiously turned the rusty handle and opened the door. But before anyone else could enter, James rushed past and into the room.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled, pointing his wand across the room where a wide-eyed Harry stood. Harry dodged the spell and watched as it's vibrant, red streak struck an old bookcase, causing the books to fly everywhere and the shelve to topple over.

"Who are you?" Said James, glaring threatingly.

"Me?" replied Harry, appalled, "Who are you?"

"Oh, like you don't know." Spat James. "You're a spitting image of me!"

"What? I don't even know you!" Said Harry, drawing his wand as James took a tentative step forward.

"What did you use, a polyjuice potion? That's it, isn't it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Said Harry, aiming his wand at James defensively.

James shot another spell towards Harry that barely missed his shoulder by inches. Harry was fighting every urge to shoot back; the only thing stopping him was the thought of being expelled from Hogwarts. Harry dodged another spell. "Stop it! What's your problem?"

James glared, "What's YOUR problem?!"

"My Problem?" Harry said, taken back. "I'm not the one shooting horribly aimed spells all over the room!"

James yelled back, "Why do you look like me?"

"I think I should be asking YOU that!" Harry said angrily. _Perhaps he's a deatheater in disguise_, he thought suspiciously… _a really stupid deatheater…_

"YOU'RE the imposter!" James said accusingly.

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate but Dumbledore had stepped forward and calmly said, "silence."

The two boys looked at the headmaster. "Harry, There's something you need to hear." Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Weasley "Molly, I'd appreciate it if you would escort James downstairs. I'm sure he's hungry." Molly nodded.

"But! -" James began to argue but the headmaster looked down over his half moon spectacles sternly and the boy went silent. He put his head down in defeat and followed Mrs. Weasley back down the musty staircase. The others followed suit until the only people still remaining in the room with Harry and the Professor was Fred and George Weasley. They looked at Harry and Dumbledore eagerly as though hoping for another good show. But as soon as Dumbledore gazed at them sternly they too followed suit, looking disappointed.

"This is ridiculous." Muttered James under his breath. "No one's going to do anything about that guy? You're all going to just let- oh, peanut butter and jelly!" James quickly switched topic at the sight of Mrs. Weasley handing him a thick sandwich.

Determined to keep James off the topic of Harry, Mrs. Weasley quickly looked for a topic to engage him in. He certainly enjoyed talking enough. "So, you enjoy Quidditch, James?"

James's eyes lit up instantly, "Are you kidding? I'm the best on the team!"

"Really?" Said Ron in admiration, "so is Har-"

Hermione quickly elbowed Ron in the gut.

"We're beaters." Said Fred and George proudly.

"That's cool, I guess." Said James; though it was obvious he didn't care. "I'm a Chaser." A smug smile spread across his face.

"Well, it's easy to see where your son gets his remarkable talent from." Said Mrs. Weasley without thinking. Realizing what she had just said, she almost dropped the dishes she had been washing.

James coughed, desperate not to choke on the bite of his sandwich he had been about to swallow, "my-my _son_?" He coughed.

The room was dead silent. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances. Mrs. Weasley bit her lip.

"I think it would be best if Molly and I spoke to James alone for a minute." Lupin said, standing up.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny didn't need telling twice. They quickly hurried out of the room. Finally, after Mr. Weasley dragged Fred and George out, Molly and Remus sat down next to James.

"James," began Lupin sternly, "the boy you met… the one upstairs…he's your…well, he's your son."

James looked at him with wide-eyes, his half-eaten sandwich now sitting forgotten in his right hand. Suddenly, he let out a small chuckle. And then that small chuckle turned into an outburst of laughter. "hahaha! You've got to be kidding me! I don't have a son!" His laughter suddenly ceased at the serious looks on Mrs. Weasley and Lupin's face. James stood up so quickly it looked as though he had sat upon a needle. He's amusement quickly turned into panic. "I-I'm only 15! Well, I'll actually be 16 in a few months… but that's beside the point! I-I can't have a kid!"

"James, please, calm down." Whispered Mrs. Weasley reaching out a hand of comfort towards him.

James pulled away, "I still have my whole life ahead of me!" He began to pace back and forth behind their chairs, running his fingers through his hair (that was in desperate need of a comb). "There's no possible way I could be a-"

"-Father." Said Dumbledore, "I'm afraid I speak the truth, Harry."

Harry dazedly sat down on the edge of the musty bed across from the old professor, year's of dust billowing off the sheets around him as his body made impact with it. "Your serious then… He splinched here… my-my dad." It felt to weird to be saying that. It was so hard to take in all that Dumbledore had just told him.

Dumbledore nodded, studying Harry closely as though afraid he'd over-react. "I know this must be difficult. The whole situation itself is very strange indeed." The headmaster gazed out the musty window for a moment in a silent reverie before looking back at Harry and continuing. "You've never met your father."

Harry looked down at his worn shoes as though he suddenly found them very interesting. He didn't want to talk about this… about his parents.

"This is a tough circumstance that's being thrust upon you."

"Yea, well, I'm used to those." Harry muttered, not taking his eyes off his old sneakers.

The Headmaster once again waited as though searching carefully for the right words to say. "This is your father at a younger age. He's a brilliant boy, but he has not yet become the great man he was before he left us. Due to his youth and inexperience he still has much to learn before he becomes that man. Before he truly becomes your father."

Something about those words almost made him feel upset. He had dreamed since he was little of meeting his father… of actually getting to speak to him. But not in his father's adolescence. He wanted to meet the brilliant man everyone at the Order had always spoken so highly of. The man who had defied Voldemort multiple times… the man that had been there… had protected his son before giving up his own life… for him… for Harry. To think that that loud-mouthed teenager downstairs was his father, bothered him. But Dumbledore was right, he had not yet become the man he was before he had died… but he was still his dad. He, Harry, would become that boy's-

"-Son. He's-he's my son…" James looked at Lupin, astonished. "I-I'm a dad?"

"Well, you'll become a dad." Corrected Lupin. "But, yes, Harry is your blood. Your future son."

James collapsed back down into his chair. "So… if that boy-"

"Harry." Interrupted Molly.

"Yea, Harry, if he's my kid… I must be married, right?" James didn't wait for either of them to answer. "Please, please tell me it is who I think it is!" He looked at Lupin, half-excited, half scared.

Lupin hesitated. He wasn't exactly sure how much the headmaster wanted him to reveal. But James gazed at him pleadingly. He could tell James was hoping with all his heart he would marry the girl he thought about even when he dreamed. The girl he had sought after since the first day he had spotted her at Platform nine and three quarters.

"Moony, come on, _please_ tell me it is who I think it is." James gazed at him with a hopeful smile.

"Alright, Prongs. Your really want to know?"

James nodded vigorously.

"Victoria Midgen."

James went slack-jawed. "The stubby little blond girl from Potions class?!" James's face went white. "The girl with that annoying laugh that follows me everywhere? Your-your kidding… right? You had better be kidding with me, Moony!" James stared at Lupin hard, a horrified look in his eyes at the thought of spending life with Victoria Midgen.

"Lucky for you." Said Lupin with a wide smile.

James horrified expression slowly turned into a small smile, "Moony, you-you!" becoming so infuriated he couldn't find the words. Then, James slowly began to laugh, "you think that's funny, eh? You haven't lost your humor after all these years apparently, You bloody git! You had me going!"

Lupin's face went red in laughter. "I'm sorry, really, I am. I can't recall the last time I've ever seen you go so pale-" _**flash! **__James Potter's pale face stared up at him from a coffin._

"…"

"…mny…"

"Moony?"

"Moony!"

Lupin quickly pulled himself away from that painful memory.

"Moony, are you okay?" James asked, looking concerned.

"Yea… yea, James… I'm fine." He rubbed his tired eyes and then smiled wearily at James in reassurance.

Molly looked worried.

"You sure, mate? You looked upset about something for a moment there." James asked.

"It just… made me remember something-"

"What was it?" asked James curiously.

Lupin stared into the bright eyes of James Potter. He was alive… he was breathing… and he had no idea what kind of fate was waiting for him in his future. "It doesn't matter." Lupin said quickly, anxious to change the subject.

"So?" snapped James, becoming excited again.

"Er, so what?" wondered Lupin.

"_So,_ who is she? The girl I marry?" James looked back and forth between Molly and Remus impatiently.

Ron and Hermione sat outside the kitchen door watching Fred and George working quickly to try and untangle their set of extendable ears. "Why did you have to shove them in your pocket all bunched up like this, Fred?"

"Don't blame me, they were already tangled."

"Honestly, Fred, you call yourself my twin-"

BANG! The kitchen door came swinging open so hard it shoved Fred right into George causing them both to get knocked to the ground.

James stood in the doorway. "I don't believe it! I MARRY her!"

"Who?" asked Hermione curiously.

"LILY EVANS!" James yelled excitedly. "I knew it!" He ran up to Ron and began shaking his shoulders, "it had to be her! It HAD to be!"

"Oh, yes, Harry's mother." Hermione whispered to herself. It took a moment for her to piece together just who this Lily was. Harry never talked about his parents. He hardly ever mentioned their names. A babbling James running over and kissing her on the cheek in happiness pulled Hermione out of her train of thought. To everyone's surprise, she blushed. Ron's ears went red, he pulled his gaze away from Hermione, and Lupin thought he saw Ron give James a bit of a glare out of the corner of his eye.

James continued bustling around the room in frenzy, bursting with happiness.

Fred and George had regained their stance and were now brushing themselves off. "Lily who?" they asked in unison.

James's eyes lit up. "Lily Evans! The most beautiful, most gorgeous witch that ever walked the floor of Hogwarts!" His face began to turn a bright red. "Eyes so green they make the Slytherin banner look dim! Long red curls flowing down her back… even redder lips…" he let out a sigh.

"Are you two dating or something?" Asked Ginny.

"No." Said James shortly, regaining his normal care-free composure, "She hates me." He smiled and shrugged his shoulders as though he could care less. "But I knew I'd get her in the end!" he said proudly. "No one can resist the Potter charm!"

For some reason these words caused Ginny to blush.

"Lily Evans." James whispered. "I marry Lily Evans." It was the sort of thing he had dreamed about. "Moony, if your pulling my leg again…" he pointed an accusing finger at Lupin who was still standing in the kitchen doorway. "So, where is she? Is Lily away too?" He looked around eagerly at everyone.

The mood in the room changed instantly. No one answered; no one would even meet his eyes.

The silence was disrupted by footsteps on the staircase. The wood floorboards were letting off creaks and moans as though the were in pain. Harry and Dumbledore entered the room. Harry and James glanced at each other, but the moment they saw that they had caught one another's eye, they quickly looked away.

The headmaster confronted James, "James, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here until I am able to find a safe way to get you back to your time. It's a miracle enough you survived such a rare form of Splinching. I'll have to find a different way to get you back. But I promise I will do everything in my power to do so." The headmaster smiled reassuringly and James gave a small smile back. Then, Dumbledore turned to Harry and whispered, "I'm not trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position. I know this will be difficult-"

"I'll be fine. Really." Harry smiled.

Dumbledore gazed at him long and hard before nodding. "I'm afraid I must begin looking into a way to solve this matter immediately. James, I hope you'll feel comfortable here." He then directed his attention to everyone else in the room. "I think it would be best for everyone to not say anything that would cause any… discomfort… towards our guest."

Everyone got the hint immediately. But it made Harry wonder… what if he did tell his father about his future… about what was going to happen to him, about Peter, about everything… could it perhaps change the way things would turn out?

"Fate is a deadly and dangerous thing to meddle with. People who have tried to avoid their fate, or change it have all met an even more horrendous end. Harry, fate has no forgiveness for those who dare stand against it…"

That was what Dumbledore had told him when Harry had suggested the same thought when they had been talking upstairs. It was risky and unwise… yet the thought that maybe there was a chance that he could actually have a life with his parents made it a tempting matter to look into… but Harry had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't say anything about James's future, no matter how much James asked or begged. Perhaps it was better to let fate be.

Dumbledore began to walk towards the front door. Harry and James looked at each other. Neither of them were quite sure how this was going to work out. But they both trusted the headmaster. It certainly was going to be an interesting week…

Lupin followed Dumbledore towards the door. As the headmaster grabbed the handle Lupin whispered, "Albus, what how long do we have?"

Dumbledore did not meet his gaze. "Not long. It's only a matter of time before these two worlds violently collide."

"And if James is un able to make in home in time?" Asked Lupin, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Then James will no longer live within his own time. If that happens he will never marry Lily and so Harry will never be born, causing Harry's former self to vanquish entirely. And since Harry is his blood connection to this time… James too will cease to be."


	5. The Match

Remus Lupin followed Dumbledore out of Number 12, leaving Harry, James, and the Weasleys in silence.

"I-I'll get some snacks started, shall I?" Said Mrs. Weasley clapping her hands together. She bustled off to the kitchen.

"We'll help!" Said Hermione eagerly, grabbing Ginny by the arm and dragging her towards the kitchen too. Hermione turned in the doorway. "Ron, are you coming?"

"No." said Ron airily.

Hermione glared at him.

"Oh, I mean, sure." He said turning red and quickly followed suit.

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was more than obvious what they were trying to give Harry and James a moment to talk.

"We'll help too!" said the twins in unison, taking everyone by surprise.

They all bustled into the kitchen. The only one with the nerve to turn around and give Harry a sympathetic glance was Hermione.

Harry sat down on the musty couch and stared absently into the fireplace.

"So…" began James uncomfortably. He looked around, trying to think up a quick subject. There were so many things to say and so many things to ask, but he was afraid to bring any of them up. Harry said nothing. Finally James walked across the rug and sat opposite of Harry.

Harry looked over at him. James recognized those eyes. He'd recognize them anywhere. They were Lily's green almond shaped eyes. That was when James found the situation no longer amusing. That was when it really sunk in…. this boy, sitting across from him… was his son. Those eyes told the truth. They told him he really was going to somehow marry Lily Evans, and that he was indeed going to have a family… but they also were trying to tell him something else… he wasn't quite sure what it was… Those eyes seemed…sad. Empty. They were missing Lily's warmth within them. It was as though Harry's eyes were telling him that he was missing something… or perhaps… someone…? James wasn't sure, but it made him feel funny. He looked down at the moth-eaten rug. "Sorry…" James muttered, not meeting Harry's eyes this time, "about shooting all those spells at you."

Harry didn't answer. He didn't want to. It was too hard… too strange to be speaking to someone he had never met. Someone who Dumbledore claimed to be the person Harry had missed the most in his life. It was just too hard to believe.

"Yea… so, you play Quidditch?" James asked, playing with a hem on his robe, as though it was a much more important thing to do than look at Harry.

"Yes." Murmured Harry.

"Chaser?" James guessed, looking up at him hopefully.

"No." said Harry.

"Please don't say my blood became a beater…" James said trying not to look disappointed.

"I'm a seeker." Said Harry, continuing to gaze into the fireplace.

James's eyes lit up happily, "Seeker? Wow… very nice."

Harry looked up at James who was smiling broadly at him. He looked proudly at Harry, and he couldn't help but let a small smile appear.

"You must be really good to get the position of seeker. That takes a lot of skill. Either that or they couldn't find anyone else to fulfill the position." Said James looking at Harry out of the corner of his eyes, still smiling broadly.

"I am good." Harry didn't mean to brag, but James had sort of offended him.

James didn't answer. He slowly reached down and grabbed one of Crookshanks small knitted balls that Hermione had bought her cat to play with. Suddenly he chucked it as hard as he could at Harry's head. Harry's hand snapped up and caught it inches from his face.

"What did you do that for?" Harry asked, a little angry.

"Wow, you are good." Smiled James.

Harry chucked it back causing it to strike James squarely in his chest. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing where it had hit, "I said I'm a Chaser, not a Seeker! I don't have as quick reflexes as you." Then he let out a small chuckle. "Come on, Harry, I was just toying with you. Why do you look so depressed? You need to learn to lighten up! It's not like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

The small smile Harry had revealed on his face quickly retreated behind a frown. Harry looked back towards the fireplace, looking sullen once more.

There was clearly something that he wasn't telling James. James opened his mouth to ask, but decided it would probably be better not to.

"Well, I still don't believe you inherited my bloody wicked Quidditch skills… want to try and prove me wrong while we wait for dinner?" James asked, the delight of challenge flashing behind his rectangular spectacles.

Harry's immediate instinct was to say no, but the look in James's eyes made him feel a small twinge of competitiveness. What could it hurt? He had always been told how amazing his dad had been at the magical sport. It would be interesting to see how good he really was. James was apparently thinking the same thing about Harry.

"Alright… James…" Harry had to stop and let the name sink in. It felt so strange to say. "You're on."

The two boys headed upstairs. "Here." Said Harry as he handed James a broomstick. "Ron won't mind if you borrow his cleansweep 7."

"Hey, this is the same broom I have! Except mine's a newer model." James eyed its many broken bristles and chipped handle from the various times Ron had crashed it. "I take it your red-headed friend isn't too good at Quidditch…"

"Oh, Ron? Yea… he could use some more practice." Harry muttered has he grabbed his broom.

James's jaw dropped. "What is that!"

"I-it's my Firebolt." Harry replied, a little embarrassed.

"A what? What model is that? When did they start making brooms with automated acceleration? Is that handle mahogany? Can I touch it? What's its speed range? I bet that thing pulls from dives so well, can I ride it?" James chattered still gazing at the broom in awe and longing.

Harry waited until he was finished gaping. "It's currently the fastest broomstick model in England, the Firebolt is." His embarrassment turned to pride.

"Hey… that's not too fair…" James began.

"Well, we can switch off broomsticks every now and then." Said Harry with a shrug.

That seemed to be just the reply James had been hoping for. "Alright, let the match begin!" James ran downstairs, Harry at his heels. They entered the living room and stopped. "Hmm… there's really nowhere to play." James looked out the dusty window into the extremely small, gated yard behind the house. "Well, I guess we'll have to play in here." He said merrily as though there was nothing wrong about the suggestion.

"Quidditch?" replied Harry questioningly, "in the house? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh, come one. You're starting to sound like a prefect. It's just Sirius's old dumpy house, it's a disaster already. What more could we do to it? Beside we're both good, responsible players, we'll be careful."

Harry still looked around the room hesitantly.

"Look, it's not as big as a Quidditch pitch, but it's still a pretty large room. And the high-vaulted ceiling makes it even more perfect for playing! We'll just have to watch the furniture." James said brightly. He mounted upon his broom and looked at Harry, "well?" he gave his cheesy grin.

"Alright." Harry said in defeat. "How about just one round."

"Sounds good to me."

"Now, where are we going to get-"

"I've got it covered." James smiled smugly and reached into his robe pocket. He held tightly within his palm a Golden Snitch. It's wings twitching frantically, itching to fly. "I took it yesterday from the Quidditch storage shed. Those locks are so easy to pick."

"Well, there's one ball. What about all the others?"

James looked around thoughtfully, "Hmm… well, there's no other players so we don't need bludgers, but I suppose we could use a Quaffle." Using his free hand he pulled a wand out of his robes.

"You can't use magic, you'll be expelled!" Exclaimed Harry, taking himself by surprise by how much he sounded like Hermione.

"Correction. _You'll_ be expelled. I won't be. I'm not in my own time period meaning I'm not registered at Hogwarts. Therefore my wand is undetectable by the Ministry of Magic." He lifted his wand and pointed it back down at Crookshanks' round cat toy. "Engorgeo." He said. The small knitted ball suddenly grew five sizes bigger. "There, that looks about right." James looked back at Harry. "Shall we?"

Harry mounted his Firebolt. James smiled and slowly unclasped his fingers. The Snitch zipped from his hand so fast it was no more than a blur.

James smiled at Harry and then took off swooping down and seizing their "quaffle" in his arms as he flew. Harry kicked off. He personally didn't think it was going to be that exciting not being on a Quidditch pitch and not being able to feel the wind in his hair. Then again it was nice to not have the continuous roar of a crowd ringing in his ears and the jeers of Slytherins distracting him. And the small room made it more of a challenge, which Harry enjoyed.

Harry didn't have any experience being a Chaser, so at first he had a little trouble throwing the 'quaffle' very well, but after a few throws, he got the rhythm of it. After a few more practice throws they began, but James played completely different than Harry had expected. He was rough, really rough. Before Harry knew what had hit him James had slammed hard into the side of him just as they made a sharp turn and the Quaffle flew gracefully from Harry's arms and across the room. The both sped after it dodging the chandelier by inches. Right as Harry made a light dive to grab the ball again, James sped from the opposite direction and snatched right before it had touched Harry's outstretched fingers. Okay, so James was good, Harry decided. Really good. But Harry decided that the only reason James was beating him so bad was because James was used to the Chaser position and Harry wasn't. It was time for them to play in Harry's league.

Harry stopped chasing James who was retrieving the Quaffle and instead began focusing his attention towards the golden snitch, which was hovering low near the couch. Harry's sudden change of direction caught James's eye. James dropped the quaffle immediately and accelerated towards Harry's destination. Harry turned to see the hungry look of competition burning in James's eyes. Harry went faster, feeling the burning desire to beat James to the snitch, but right as Harry outstretched his fingers, the snitch fluttered nervously away and headed towards the living room door; which unfortunately Harry was only now realizing, had not been shut all the way. The snitch sped through the door's crack and out into the hallway. And without thinking twice about the consequences or what they were doing they sped out after it like mad men.

The hallway was so long and tiny Harry and James were bumping shoulders, neither daring to take their eyes off the tiny gold ball. Harry could hear James laughing in his ears in excitement as they drew nearer to it. They turned a sharp corner and James rammed Harry hard into the wall, Furious, Harry stabilized his broom, ignored his aching side and rammed himself back into James, causing him to collide with a table and the vase sitting on top of it, which shattered. The distraction had caused them both to lose sight of the Snitch, but they finally saw it once again, heading up the stairs. They paused to look at one another, greedy smiles stretching across their faces. They took off once again, bumping shoulders, hands outstretched so far in longing for the ball they hurt.

They let out loud yelps in unison as a gut-wrenching lurch flung them backwards towards the staircase and onto the hard, dusty wood floor. Harry heard both their brooms clunk down somewhere near them. Harry looked at James with a pained expression and James returned the same look, both letting out a low, "owwww…". They heard the impatient tapping of a foot and looked up to see Mrs. Weasley standing to the right of them in the kitchen doorway, her wand out.

"Accio brooms!" she said loudly and clearly, and both the Firebolt and the Cleansweep 7 flew into her hands. She gazed down at the boys. Lupin stood at her side, his expression unreadable. Fred and George stood behind them, looking over their mother's shoulders and said to Harry and James in mock shame, "Playing Quidditch in the house-"

"-tsk. Naughty, naughty!" The two twins shook their heads, smiles on their faces.

Mrs. Weasley took a step towards Harry and James, "What in Merlin's name-"

"Harry started it!" James interjected pointing a finger at Harry.

"No I didn't! It was YOUR idea!" Harry said furiously, "You suggested it!"

"Even if I did, you agreed!"

Harry opened his mouth angrily and then closed it again, un able to find something to say. James looked at him smugly.

"Do you boys not understand the seriousness of what's going on here?" Lupin stepped forward. "Do you really feel like this is the time to be messing around? There isn't time for games; this whole Splinching situation could be fatal for both of you! We need to be thinking of a solution instead of causing more problems."

Mrs. Weasley's expression for some reason softened. And Harry and James looked at each other, feeling terrible. But what had Lupin meant by "fatal to both of them?"

Harry's mind drifted away from that as he looked around at the overturned tables and broken vase. James looked down at the floor, ashamed. The snitch had resurfaced from upstairs and was now zipping around the two boys' heads, as though mocking them.

Lupin suddenly felt terrible for snapping at them, he just felt so stressed, he had no idea how they were going to get James home, how they were going to fix any of this. He couldn't seem to find a solution and it was beginning to scare him.

Lupin opened his mouth to speak but before he could Harry said, "Sorry."

"No," said James, standing up, "I'm sorry. If I hadn't gotten so competitive…"

"You weren't the only one." Harry shamefully admitted, standing up as well.

"I suggested it…." James murmured.

"Yea, but I agreed."

Harry and James looked at each other and they both gave out a small smile apologetically towards one another.

"We were just trying to have a bit of fun." Said James, looking at Mrs. Weasley. "Just trying to lighten things up."

Harry nodded.

"But… I guess we got a little too carried away." Harry admitted, looking around at the messy trail they had left in their wake.

James nodded this time.

"No, its- its not you." Lupin said to the boys. "I just feel pressured by this whole- oh, never mind, it's nothing." He smiled at them. "I should have expected there to be mischief as soon as I left the room. One Potter is trouble enough, bring two and I guess this is what you get. I should have known better."

Mrs. Weasley sighed feeling that what Lupin had said had been enough, "Well, what can you do…" She flicked her wand and the mess around them repaired, the snitch fell immobilized to the floor and she handed them back their brooms, smiling at them. "Dinners ready then, come on you two." She walked back into the kitchen, Lupin following at her heels.

James reached down and picked up the immobile Snitch, it's wings still stretched out as though it was still in flight. Harry and James looked at the Snitch and then at one another. And for some strange reason, they both began to let out a chuckle, which soon turned into a laugh, and then into an uncontrollable fit.

After a minute or so Harry wiped a tear of laughter from his eye, "We really did get out of hand there."

"Yea." Agreed James, smiling broadly.

"It's true though." Said Harry.

"Er, what's true?" James looked at him.

"You really are a great Quidditch player."

James's smiled widened. He twirled the snitch in his fingers. "Not nearly as good as you. I guess it's true then, skill grows stronger with every generation. That's what my dad always says." They smiled at one another. James breathed in deeply and brushed off his robes, "Alright, there's no time to be getting sentimental, there's food calling us!"

And together they walked into the kitchen and for the first time that day, they were thankful for one another's company.


	6. The journey ahead

Harry and James stayed up for hours that night, whispering. Ron tried to stay awake and listen, but within ten minutes his snores had filled the musty room. The moonlight cast stripes of light upon the wall and every now and then Hedwig would rustle her feathers. The two boys talked excitedly.

"You're pulling my leg. There's no way you fought a Basilisk! You're trying to show me up, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. Ron can vouch for me, right, Ron?"

A deep grunt was heard on the other side of the room, and then turned back into snores.

"Wow… You'll have to tell me more about that story…" Whispered James, clearly impressed. "So, Snape's a potions teacher now, huh?" He chuckled. "I guess they'll make anyone a teacher these days. That slimy git was always tailing us, trying to find ways to get us in trouble. He almost got killed because of it! You think he would learn…"

"You mean when you and Sirius tricked him into going towards the whomping willow…"

"Yea- hey… you know about that?"

"Yea," Harry hissed into the dark, "Lupin told me."

James chuckled again, "Probably got a good laugh remembering it."

Harry didn't answer for a moment, "But you saved Snape's life, right?"

This time James took a minute to answer, "Well… yea."

Harry was silent for a moment. "Well, what made you do it? After all the times you and Snape went at each other, what made you turn around and save him?"

"Well, I thought Padfoot was probably taking it a little too far. He does tend to get careless in his actions. But he kept reassuring me it wasn't a big deal… and that it would be our funniest prank on Snivellus yet… and then, when Snape walked toward that tree… I dunno, there's no one I hate more than that Snape, but even so… it-it just seemed a little too cruel, you know? And as I pulled him out of the way… it-it just felt like the right thing to do."

There was silence between Harry and James for a while. Harry stared up towards the ceiling with a small smile etched upon his face. Harry knew he had been right about his father. The way Snape attacked his father memory… told Harry what an arrogant prat his dad was… he knew he hadn't been all right. His father was immature still, yes. But he wasn't stupid. Even though Snape was his enemy, he had saved his foes life. He had done the right thing. And Harry tried to imagine himself in James's place, and Draco Malfoy standing in front of the willow… would Harry have done the same noble thing? Just thinking of Malfoy made him burn in loathing. Would he have been as noble as his father in the same situation? The fact that Harry hesitated about it discouraged him. But he just hated Malfoy so much…

"He never did thank me. But I guess I didn't really want him to. I hated Snape just as much after that, and at the same time, it felt good to know I saved a life… even if I hated the life I saved. Letting someone die is not worth it, ally or foe."

It was as though James had heard Harry's very thoughts. "Yea," Harry muttered, "you're right." It was strange hearing James talk so seriously. But Harry found himself admiring his father greatly. So it was true, James was just as great a man as Dumbledore had always said.

"So, did I tell you already about the time Sirius and I tricked Lily Evans…" James continued to talk into the night, telling Harry about all the Marauder's pranks and laughing at all the amazing things Harry had done at Hogwarts. Eventually both boys grew too tired to speak another word and Harry felt as though he had barely drifted off to sleep when he was being awakened by Hermione's call.

"Get up, would you? This is the third time I've had to come up here and tell you to get up. Next time I'll drag you out of bed!" She said shrilly as she tugged James's covers off him. "Come on, we're leaving soon!" And she marched out.

Harry squinted to make sure Hermione was gone before completely opening his eyes. His body felt like lead after staying up so late. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses off the table beside him. Sitting up he saw that Ron must already be downstairs. James however was still asleep, coverless, and letting out loud snores. Harry yawned, "You can stop pretending to be asleep now, Hermione's gone."

James opened one eye just to make sure and then sat up. "Jeez, I thought she'd never leave. Bossy little thing, isn't she?"

Harry shrugged.

The two boys dressed in silence. Together in perfect sync, they both sighed and adjusted their glasses on their noses. "Well, off to brunch, then?" James asked Harry as he waved a hand towards the stairs.

The kitchen smelled of bacon simmering and the low chatter of the others eating filled the hallway as they neared. The minute they had walked through the kitchen door Mrs. Weasley sprung into action. It was a bit difficult for them to make it to their chairs with Mrs. Weasley trying to shove plates of eggs into their hands and fussing with their hair, but eventually Lupin was able to clear her away and got both the boys seats next to him.

"So," Lupin began. "You're going to need to get your school books today." He leaned over and looked at Harry. "You three should have done it awhile ago," he indicated towards Ron and Hermione with his fork as they sat across from him. "But in light of the recent events," his eyes flickered in James's direction and James pretended to be concentrating on his food, not noticing, "hopefully they'll still have your new books in stock."

Harry smiled, a trip to Diagon Alley was always an 'A' on his list. Harry looked over at James and noticed that he was no longer shoveling down his food but picking at it with his fork as though he no longer found it interesting. Harry had an idea of what was bothering him. Harry looked up at Lupin, "What about Dad- er, James?"

Lupin looked at Harry and then to James who didn't look up from his plate of food. He wiped the side of his mouth with his napkin and turned seriously to the boys. "Well, after talking a bit about it-"

"Let me guess, you want me to stay hidden, right?" James cut in glumly as he stabbed at his eggs.

Lupin studied him for a moment. "Actually, the Order decided it couldn't hurt much to let you go."

James's head snapped up from his plate instantly, his eyes bright with excitement. "Really?"

Lupin nodded. "But on certain conditions…"

James frowned, "I knew there had to be rules attached… there's always rules." He stabbed at his eggs again.

Lupin smiled, "Dumbledore thinks it would be good to get you out of the house for a bit. Give you some fresh air. What we can do is split into two separate groups. Harry will be with one group, you with the other, you two can't be seen together if you happen to run into someone you know from school, Harry."

Harry nodded in agreement. He could just see the smug look on the Malfoys' face as they reported James's strange splinch to the Ministry. It would get Dumbledore in so much trouble. Then again, he couldn't help but smile as he imagined running into Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley and the look of horror on his face as he saw what looked like double of Harry.

"That's the only advantage we have due to shopping so late, it's rare that you'll run into someone who would recognize you, but we can't be too sure."

"And you mustn't forget other people, like Tom the barkeeper and Ollivander, if they saw you together-." Chimed in Hermione from across the table.

"Alright, we get it, Harry and I will have to split up. What other terms are there?" James pressed impatiently.

Lupin stood up to give his plate to Mrs. Weasley and by the look of her lips pursed tight and her silence throughout the whole conversation, Harry could tell she wasn't approving of any of this.

"If someone does come up to you, you need to act like you are Harry. And James," he looked at James sternly in the eyes and Harry was surprised to see James shrink a little under the old professor's stare, "You have to stay with your group. Absolutely no wandering off."

"Why are you only addressing this towards me?" James piped up, he jabbed a finger in Harry's direction, "Harry's broken just as many rules over the years as I have."

Lupin smiled warmly. "Yes, but Harry, unlike you, rarely chooses to break the rules on purpose. You seem to have a passion for breaking rules, Harry on the other hand just happens to get caught in the wrong situations and the wrong times. I'm not worried in the slightest about him wandering off."

Harry felt a little embarrassed that Lupin had just stuck up so strongly for his innocence, especially when he knew that he had broken more than enough rules with the knowledge that he was doing wrong, but he kept his mouth shut seeing as how James was pondering this.

"Fine, I'll stay in line." He muttered. "Those terms aren't too bad I suppose."

"It's settled then." Lupin headed towards the kitchen door.

"Wait, aren't you coming with us?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"I wish I could but I have a lot of business I need to help Dumbledore sort out."

"Aw, come on, Moony! It won't be for very long!" James begged through a mouthful of food.

Lupin stopped and considered it for a moment. Then he smiled, "I really can't, but I'll stop back by when you return from Diagon Alley." He smiled in their direction once more before heading out the door.

"Aw." James turned back to his plate of food, "He's losing his sense of fun in his old age."

"Well, if we're going to go to Diagon Alley we'd better get a move on." Mrs. Weasley said sternly and Harry could tell she still wasn't okay with the idea of letting James out in public.

"Harry's in my group!" Ron said suddenly. Hermione shot him a nasty look knowing that that would leave James in her. It wasn't that she disliked James; it was just that the Weasley twins had suddenly apparated into the room declaring dramatically that it would be their divine mission to keep Hermione company since Harry and Ron were ditching her. And One Marauder would be trouble enough, add two more to the equation and James plus Fred and George equaled nothing but trouble.

A/N: Gosh, I know, I finally updated, what is my problem? Okay this chapter was pretty much the chapter that going to get the good stuff rolling. I love what I have planned for the trip to Diagon Alley, it's the chapter that will really begin to bring out the depth in the story, so I'll be updating a lot sooner, and that's a promise! Thanks for all the reviews, see you in the next chappie!


	7. The devastating truth

The devastating truth-

"Alright, Harry, Ron, you'll be looking after Ginny-"

"Honestly, mum, I don't need 'looking after!'"

"And Hermione, you'll be in charge of looking after Fred, George and James." Finished Mrs. Weasley as she shuffled them all into groups.

"We don't need a babysitter!"

"Yea, Fred and I are older than Hermione!"

"I'm not going by age here." Replied Mrs. Weasley sternly. "I need to get some new ministry robes for Arthur so I'll be at Madam Malkins if you need anything."

"We'll be fine." They all replied at once.

"It's not like we've never been around Diagon Alley on our own before!" Said George crossly.

"I know, I know… It's just…" She glanced at James. "We'll, never mind. Off we go then." Mrs. Weasley tapped the bricks and they all stepped back as Diagon Alley appeared before their eyes.

"We'll meet back here within the hour." Mrs. Weasley reminded them. The two groups spit off immediately and Mrs. Weasley headed off towards the robe shop. They all waved goodbye to one another, and headed off in separate directions.

James was very merry at the prospect of being out of the dark and depressing house of Black. "Hey, that's new!" James pointed at a wizard hat's stand.

"Actually, it's been there for a while… but I guess it's new to you." Said George absent-mindly as he and Fred gazed around for something. "Hey, there it is!" replied Fred suddenly. They both pointed towards a small shop in the corner. "New joke shop!" said Fred. "Just opened!" Said George.

"We need to be getting our books, not messing around in a joke shop!" Scolded Hermione.

George looked at her with eyebrows raised high, "well then, don't come."

Hermione looked outraged, "Your mother told us to stay together!"

George smiled sweetly and put one arm around Hermione's shoulders, "And we will stay together… right after Fred and I take a peek and the joke store."

"No!" Said Hermione crossly.

Fred and George laughed in unison. "What are you going to do, stop us?"

Hermione Glowered at them.

"It's settled then." Said George and he began to walk towards the new shop.

"See you in a few!" Fred laughed and followed his brother.

"Those two are so- where do you think you're going?"

James had begun to follow the twins but was stopped as Hermione seized him by his shirt.

"Careful, this shirt's Harry's! And where do you think I'm going? I want to see the joke store too!"

"Oh no you're not. You can't just leave me here by myself!" Hermione said, "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you-"

"I don't need a nanny!" James cut her off, getting irritated.

"Come on." Was all Hermione said as she began to lead James away, still holding him firmly by the shirt.

James would have argued if he hadn't noticed the look in her eyes she was giving him. The same look Lily gave him whenever he was really getting on her nerves. The look, in the last few days, James had really come to miss. He took one last, longing look at the joke shop before allowing Hermione to lead him the other way. They walked in silence for a moment as Hermione looked for the bookshop and James thought of Lily Evans.

Hermione suddenly pulled him out of his reverie, James hadn't even noticed that she had let go of his shirt. "So… can I ask you a question?"

"Er, I guess…" James replied as he gazed at all the shops.

"Are you friends with Peter Pettigrew?"

James stopped and looked at her in astonishment. "You know Peter?"

"oh, well," Hermione turned red, "I just know you were friends with him, that's all." They continued to slowly walk again.

"that's an odd question. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." She pretended to be distracted with finding the bookshop again.

"What's it matter to you?"

"It doesn't. I was just trying to get to know you a little better. That's all." Hermione sounded a little offended, and James instantly felt bad for snapping at her.

"Yea, we're friends. He follows us more than we want him around, but he's an okay kid. His clumsiness is pretty entertaining. Does that answer your question?" James asked her kindly.

Hermione didn't look at him, she just nodded. It was a minute before she spoke again, and James could tell she was choosing her words carefully. "You don't think he'd ever turn weird, do you?"

"What, like backstab me? Swindle Lily from me? Betray me?" James let out a bark like laugh that for a fleeting moment reminded Hermione of Sirius. "No way! Peter may be annoying at times, but he's a nice kid! Too nice for his own good, as I always say."

Hermione didn't answer, but instead bit her lip, looking as though she regretted ever asking.

"Hey, you okay?"

Hermione just nodded.

James eyed her suspiciously, "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, "No," she said quickly, "I was just curious. I don't know too much about you, so…" But she still looked as though something was bothering her. Like there was something she wanted to say, but she stayed silent until they reached the bookshop.

"So, what about you?" Asked James as they entered, "How did you end up friends with Harry?"

Hermione looked at him, clearly offended.

"I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just, you guys seem so opposite." James said so rushed it was hard for Hermione to distinguish all he had said.

"We're so opposite? Oh, well, I suppose at times we can be… anyways, it's a long story as to how we met." She began skimming the shelves intently.

"How long is long?" James persisted, hands deep in his pockets and gaze averted elsewhere other than the books, which didn't seem to interest him in the slightest.

"As in, a troll's worth long." And she meant that more literally than she had let on.

"Hm…" was all James said.

"We're not together if that's what you're trying to get at." Said Hermione suddenly.

"No, I know that." James said as he flicked through a random book without interest. "But Harry's friend… the red-headed kid, he seems awfully interested in you."

Hermione dropped the book she was holding and a couple nearby looked in their direction. She casually brushed her bushy hair towards her face as to conceal the scarlet color it was turning. "That's ridiculous. Ron and I are just friends."

"If you say so." Replied James, "Here let me get that for you." He reached down and picked up the book she dropped, blowing off the dust on it before handing it back to her.

She gazed strangely at him.

"What?" he asked, feeling akward.

"It's so strange…" She took the book and put it back on the shelf. "You… being here. You really are Harry's father."

"I suppose." James shrugged awkwardly.

"I can't imagine how he must feel right now. Happy, yet confused. And probably sad too, seeing you here, like a distant dream."

This took James by surprise. He looked at her, unable to decipher what she meant. "Why would he feel any of that? It's not like he doesn't see me all the time. I am his father, or at least, in this time period I am."

Hermione suddenly bit her lip and suddenly looked very interested in an old book, looking regretful yet again.

James tried to meet her gaze again but she refused to look up at him. "Where is his father anyway? Where's the future me? Old Dumbly said I was away… where did I go?"

"Well, I honestly don't think we're going to find what we need here, we'd better go look somewhere else, come on." She said hastily and before James could respond she was headed off towards another section. James didn't follow. He didn't find books remotely interesting, nor did he find watching Harry's odd friend Hermione read books very interesting, so he decided he'd wait for her by the door. And he did wait, for a few minutes anyway. But slowly his mind began to travel back towards the joke shop that George and Fred were probably having a good time in while he was stuck in a grubby old bookshop. Well, Fred and George had already broken the rules, hadn't they? They split off, what should it matter now if he split off too? How much trouble could HE get into if the twins were the ones who broke the rule in the first place? He quickly glanced in Hermione's direction who looked deeply absorbed in a book. Making up his mind, he quietly exited out of the bookstore and back out into the cobblestone street.

It was hardly crowded. He began to head back the way they came when a shiny new broomstick display caught his eye. "That's the broom Harry's got!" Getting excited he rushed into the shop.

James gazed at it in awe, itching to touch the handle. He sat there for a moment, reading the description posted next to the Firebolt. When out of nowhere a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. He jumped, spinning around, praying to Merlin it wasn't Mrs. Weasley. But he let out a long sigh of relief to be looking at the shop owner.

"Oh, it's you Mister Potter. How are you? I haven't seen you in here for awhile." She smiled sweetly down at him.

James was startled for a moment because she had addressed him by name and then it struck him that she thought he was Harry.

"Oh, yea, just admiring the Firebolt's handiwork…" He gave a crooked smile.

"Hmm," The shop keeper looked at him in confusion, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "That's funny, I thought I heard that you already owned a Firebolt."

James's smile dropped from his face instantly, panicked he muttered, "Oh, well, you know, you can never get enough of a quality broom like this whether you own one or not." James felt half ready to grab the broom and start banging it against his head. What a lame thing to say…

"oh, well, I do know how that is. That's why I have this job. You can never get enough of Quidditch, can you?" She looked around her shop admiringly.

"Yea…" James chuckled uneasily.

"I've always wanted to tell you… I think your father would be so proud if he knew you inherited his remarkable flying skills." She smiled warmly at him, but her eyes were full of pity.

James didn't understand, "What do you mean, 'if he knew'?"

She fiddled with the collar of her robe uncomfortably, "Well, with him being passed on and all… oh a customer's at the counter, I must rush! It really was nice to see you again Mr. Potter." And she bustled away towards the counter, looking a little relieved to get away.

James felt all the blood drain from his face. What had the shopkeeper meant by 'passed on'? Was she seriously insisting that he, James Potter…. Was dead?


	8. Between truth and lies

Between truth and lies-

James's heart felt like it would fail. He ran up to the counter, completely cutting off the shop owner and her customer in mid-conversation.

"Clarify 'passed on'." James said, his voice was suddenly raspy and his palms were becoming sweaty from being clenched together so tightly.

"Mr. Potter, please, I'm with a customer." The owner said offensively.

The man at the counter cast James a rude glance before continuing his sentence.

But James cut in again," What did you mean?" James asked on the verge of sounding outraged.

The owner was looking at him, clearly appalled. "I don't know what you mean. You're acting very strange Mr. Potter…"

James stared hard at her for a moment. He slowly relaxed his hands and took a deep breath, "You said I- my parents… they were…"

The shop owner stared avidly at him. "Well, yes. You're parents… I don't feel comfortable discussing this right now. You aren't looking very well."

Indeed, all the color was gone from James's face and his limbs had become shaky. He was afraid to find out the truth… whether or not he was really… But he didn't need to ask again, because her eyes confirmed it for him. He felt light-headed, in a daze. It couldn't be… no one ever said…

"Mr. Potter? Are you feeling ill? Should-should I call somebody?" The shop owner gazed at him in concern. When he didn't answer her gaze flickered over towards the customer who just shrugged.

James had to get out, he couldn't breathe. The store was spinning as it closed in around him. He bolted towards the door.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter! Wait!" The shopkeeper hurried after him. But he was already out and on the cobblestone street by the time she reached the doorway. Clutching her chest, she stood outside her shop, gazing at him running down the road, practically knocking down people as he ran. Passerby stared at the owner curiously.

"Excuse me." Came a voice suddenly.

The shopkeeper spun around.

"I noticed you said the name "Potter". He's with me. Is there something wrong?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly.

"Well apparently so. Mr. Potter was just speaking to me when, well, I dunno, he went into a panic… I think it might have been something I said…"

Mrs. Weasley furrowed her eyebrows. The shopkeeper had to be referring to James. Harry and the other's had already met back at their meeting place. James had been the only one absent, and Hermione had tearfully admitted she had no idea where he had gone. "Which way did he go?"

James had no idea where he was running too. He just knew that he couldn't stop or the truth would catch up to him. He turned into an alleyway. Everything made sense now… everyone's words. They echoed loudly in his head.

"Your away right now…."

"Away…" James repeated to himself. He slid down the wall slowly until he was sitting. He drew his knees up to his chest and covered his ears even though it did nothing to stop the words from repeating in his mind. He shut is eyes tightly. He didn't believe it… he couldn't… there was no way he was dead.

"It's strange… you, being here…." All of Hermione's words and strange actions… the way everybody looked at him funny whenever he tried to mention his future.

His stomach was twisting in knots and he was biting his lip so hard it hurt. How? How could this happen to him? How could he have died? Or more like, how was he going to die? No, he didn't want to think about that, he couldn't. It made him feel sick. So this was the reason Harry was all alone… the reason no one ever mentioned James's future self, not once… it was because he wasn't there to begin with.

"…James?" A whisper echoed softly down the alleyway.

A second later footsteps were headed toward him. "There you are. Everyone's looking for you, we need to head back…. James?" Harry stopped in his tracks. "Is something wrong?"

James didn't answer, but kept his eyes averted to his knees. Harry hesitantly stepped closer. Something wasn't right…

"Why…" James finally said.

"Er, why what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Why did you all lie to me?"

This took Harry by surprise. "Lie to you? What do you mean?"

"Stop pretending like you don't know!" James's head snapped up and he looked at Harry straight in the eyes, " Why doesn't everyone just quit playing stupid! You lied, you all lied! You were all in on it, even you! No one thought I had the right to know?" He was suddenly on his feet. His eyes shot daggers at Harry's; his fists were shaking with rage.

Harry didn't respond. He looked solemn in a way.

James's voice slowly turned into a whisper, "Why didn't anyone tell me I was dead?"

Harry looked away.

"Everyone decided to hide it from me… even you…" James felt his anger returning. He didn't feel bad for yelling at Harry in the slightest. In fact, quite the opposite, it felt wonderful to see that shamed look on Harry's face. He wanted Harry to feel bad. James wanted to keep yelling until Harry, no, everyone, felt just as upset as he did.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't think-"

"WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME!"

"Because!" Harry suddenly yelled, and he emphasized his next words strongly, "It was too much for you!"

The look of rage on James's face melted instantly and was replaced with a look of surprise.

"This is exactly why we couldn't tell you. You can't handle it! How would you have reacted if we had told you the minute you arrived here that you were deceased? You would have freaked out, just like you are now! You know why we couldn't tell you!"

"So you just decided to leave me in the dark?"

"If it meant that you were safe from the truth!" Harry's tone softened a bit. He knew better than anybody what it was like to be shielded from the truth. "No one wanted you to worry, that's all. You know that Dumbledore and Lupin only had your best interests at heart!"

James didn't answer, but slowly slid back down the alleyway wall and onto the cobblestone floor. He leaned against the brick, feeling dazed and confused. Harry slowly sat down beside him. Neither spoke for quite a while. They just listened to the sound of passerby and shoppers within the streets.

Finally James broke the silence. "Sirius is dead, isn't he?"

Harry's silence answered the question.

James's throat constricted tightly, "And Lily?"

Harry didn't answer again.

James's chest felt tight, "No…" he tried to meet Harry's gaze but Harry wouldn't look at him. An overwhelming wave of pain was threatening to drown him and it was making it hard for James to breathe. "Not Lily. Not her." Harry still refused to look at him. "Anybody… anybody but her…" He put his head in his hands and clenched his hair with his fists until his knuckles where white.

There was a moment of silence where James struggled to take it all in. "And Sirius. Why Sirius?" Why, indeed? Why his best friend? And Lily too… what had she ever done to share his fate? How could it be that everyone around him, the people he desperately cared about, were going to end up six feet under?

The shock was wearing off and a flooding pool of emotions was threatening to drown him. He was half ready to rip his nails into his chest and tear his heart out to if it meant it would make this overwhelming pain go away.

"You have a story to tell me, don't you?" James whispered quietly.

"..."

"How did it happen?" James took a deep breath. "No more secrets and no more lies. Tell me. I want to know everything."

James was oddly still and quiet as Harry began to tell the story of his father's demise. Harry didn't quite know all the details himself, but he told James all he knew, from the Order of the Phoenix to them going into hiding. But decided at the last minute to leave out any information about Peter's betrayal, making it sound more along the lines that some unknown person had sold them out. He didn't know why, but it just felt like it wasn't right to tell James that one of his current best friends, in his present time, would one day betray him. The thought might cause James to ensue chaos when he got back… if he got back. Finally, he told James the last of what he knew; from his father's own death to Harry's defeat of Voldemort. And Harry showed him the scar on his head.

Harry didn't look at James but waited with bated breath for him to say something. But he said nothing.

They sat in silence for what felt like a long time until Harry was able to swallow the lump in his throat and whisper, "I'm sorry."

James looked at him very suddenly. "For what?"

His mind automatically thought, "for being responsible for it all." But he couldn't get the words out because the lump was back in his throat.

"Honestly" James sighed, "It bothers me… knowing that we die at the hand of Voldemort. But honestly, knowing that we do it for you… doesn't bother me so much." James then caught Harry by surprise as a sad grin spread across his face.

Harry felt selfish when he realized that he felt somewhat comforted in knowing that he wasn't the only one who was carrying this overwhelming feeling of loss in his heart.

"We'd better get back. I bet Molly's having a cow from worry." James said softly. He slowly got to his feet and then reached out a hand down towards Harry. He grabbed it and James helped hoist Harry to his feet.

"Thanks. For telling me the truth."

"Er, your welcome… I guess." Harry didn't feel like James should be thanking him, he wasn't sure if he had made things better or worse.

You know, we still need to have a Quidditch rematch."

"Just not in the house this time, okay?" Harry agreed as they began to walk down the alley and back towards the sunlit street.

"Aw… but where's the fun in that?"


	9. An Apology

A/N: I know what you're thinking… OMG, an author's note?? This can't be good! Well, you're right, and I'm sorry. I haven't updated in an eternity, I know. And I'm really surprised that I am still getting reviews and constant favs for it. I really don't have the desire to finish it to be completely honest, haha. My love for Harry Potter as been shoved aside by my new love for Fullmetal Alchemist. LOL. I really hate to be one of those author's who stops mid-story… because I hate those author's myself. I'm really sorry! I've appreciated all the support and encouragement as well as reviews and favs that you guys have given me. You guys rock! I love ya! –Res Nullius


	10. Author's Note

Author's Note:

It's been a long time since I've updated this story, I know. And I'm sorry. I hate when people leave their stories unfinished and I hate even more that I am one of those people! I was surprised to get a recent review on it. I had long since forgotten about it. I really have no desire to finish it. HOWEVER, like I said, I hate people who never finish their stories. If enough people really would like me to finish it, I am willing to put the effort into doing so. If no one really cares then I guess I'll just leave it, hehe. **Shrug**. But either way I wanted to give all you subscribers an explanation, you deserve one, especially after all the encouragement you gave me! :) **hugs** -Res Nullius


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